


Coinage

by Wil



Category: Le Morte d'Arthur
Genre: Friendship / Flirting / Thinking of You Fest, M/M, Opposites Attract
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wil/pseuds/Wil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not sure what happens here. Galahad and Mordred try to have a conversation, looks like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coinage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pitseleh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitseleh/gifts).



> For [](http://pitselly.livejournal.com/profile)[**pitselly**](http://pitselly.livejournal.com/) .

From a distance, they looked completely dissimilar. His hair was too black to be brown – in the afternoon sun, it even gleamed blue. Lancelot looked at the pair of boys, frowning. His son and Arthur's, sitting side by side and talking. Galahad's hair in a sunny gold seemed to have stolen the light from Mordred – perhaps he did, in a way.

The association made no sense to Lancelot, and yet he trusted his son's judgement, and thus passed his way after he'd nodded politely at the two boys. The King had called for him, and Lance disliked making him wait almost as much as he hated to force Guinevere's patience.

“Your father doesn't like me,” Mordred said, quietly after Lancelot left.

“My father hates no-one,” Galahad replied, gently. “He just needs to know you better, is all.” He smiled, just a bit, and stood.  
“Walk with me?” there was something gentle and almost tender in his voice.

They walked side by side, Galahad quiet and pensive, Mordred thoughtful and already scheming. “I won't go on the Grail quest,” he said, after a while.

“It's al-right,” Galahad replied quietly. “You have more sense than your brother, then.”

Perhaps deep in his heart, the boy had already understood the nature of the quest – but maybe he also worried for Mordred.

“Don't talk that way about my brother,” was the harsh reply. Galahad sighed and watched Mordred stalk away. There seemed to be something gleaming in Mordred's hair, but the young knight wasn't sure what.

 


End file.
